Brand New World
by AutumnSiren29
Summary: Prequel to A Circle Mage's Journey; follow the Elven female Mage from Ferelden's Circle on her journey after the betrayal of one of her closest friends. How she deals being outside in a world she has read of, but rarely ever saw or interacted in. How she copes with her new responsibilities that came with the circumstances regarding her departure.


**Brand New World: Prequel to A Circle Mage's Journey**

I had lived in the tower for most of my whole life. It was home to me even if; at times, I had wished it otherwise. There was a vague time where I recalled the walls outside the tower, but as years had passed by; they had become blurry and indistinguishable. Don't let other mages fool you; I am happy here. I was allowed shelter from those afraid of my gifts, food, and a quality academic education of the arcane arts that would lead me to a scholarly and bright future as a mage.

It was difficult at times. For more than one reason, but I have never wavered and given in. It has led me to where I am now, and that is all the contentment I need to know that I am satisfied with my life as it is in this moment.

The ability to practice my gifts under the eyes of the templars without fear of persecution was something many mages saw as a slight to them; but, I no longer harbored the same sentiments as most here. Oftentimes, I can find common ground with most of the templars when needed. But templars are a bit overbearing and annoying at times too.

Some see mages the same. It is only human nature at its finest.

My name is Neria Surana. I am a mage of the Circle located in Fereldan and I am just now at my twentieth summer. Young though I seem to many, I am an able-minded mage and have given the templars no reason to suspect otherwise.

Being in the position I am; I have studied history, language, culture and more by my mentor. Not just simply magic that is related to the two specializations I intend to pursue. My dissolved anger came from my more in-depth studies of history than others within Kinloch Hold; Fereldan's Mage Circle Tower. Most of the common people know of the history I speak of, but few are aware of the finer aspects to it.

It is said that long ago, the mages of the Tevinter Imperium sought to usurp heaven and broke open Golden City; the very seat of power belonging to the Maker himself. They had enraged the heavens with their actions and so the Maker returned them to their earthly domain as monsters. Twisted reflections of their dark hearts. Creatures that now are known as Darkspawn; led by an Archdemon to bring ruin to humanity when awoken. Ruin and calamity known to all as a Blight; just like the one started now down in the south.

Neria's eyes closed as she gripped her book tightly and whispered softly to herself as she tried to concentrate on her studies, "And so is the Golden City blackened

With each step you take in my Hall.

Marvel at perfection, for it is fleeting.

You have brought Sin to Heaven

And doom upon all the world."

Neria then saw faint outlines of a blurry image she did not exactly recognize, but it seemed to be a part of the Black City. Yet, she could not be sure and something seemed off about it. She had never had much faith for the Chant; though she did believe that parts to it were truthful to certain extents.

Her religious faith was more of a mix of the Andrastian Chantry and of the old gods of the Dalish; though he had not been born among one of the wandering clans. She had studied those too with what materials she had and began to believe the two were intertwined somehow. Probably more closely than she wanted to think, and pondered how Tevinter also played a role to this beyond the obvious.

The human prophet Andraste had raised herself out of slavery bonds in the Imperium when the Maker was said to have heard her song and it had inspired him not to give up on his mortal children.

She broke free and raised an army out of the ancient Barbarian tribes against the might of the whole Tevinter Imperium. She had even married one of the greatest generals to the Alamarri people at the time. Along with her allies gained due to the alliance with Elven hahren Thane Shartan, founder of the Dalish and his people; Andraste brought many people to freedom and broke Tevinter's hold on the south. The Elven People who were her allies had all been eager and willing to overthrow cruel masters and mistresses. Humans who had stolen some, if not almost all of their culture for themselves.

It was a land that at one time, was based on the darkest magic and where mages like myself ruled with tyranny and fear. Empowered by Blood Magic and no one to voice a concern for its overuse; fear had become long imposed by the powerful noble houses that were quick to anger and fight, but less so to negotiate.

But Andraste's earthly husband; an Alamarri general named Maferath…he betrayed her and their cause to her enemies as his jealousy rose when he saw how the people adored her leadership; how they fell before her on their knees in respect and their respect for her voice to the Maker. A god who had answered her and to her alone.

Neria hummed softly, "Spite ate away all that was good, kind, and loving till nothing was left but the spite itself, coiled 'round my heart like a great worm.

And in my darkest hour, I turned from Her and vowed that I would destroy Her.

At the moment of Her death I knew what I had done, and I wept.

I shall bring the lands of my fathers to Her Word. Therein lies their salvation and mine.

And She came to me in a vision and laid Her hand on my heart.

Her touch was like fire that did not burn. And by Her touch, I was made pure again.

Despair not, said She, for your betrayal was Maker-blessed and returned me to His side.

I am forgiven."

And with his betrayal; her life was sacrificed. Archon Hessarian gave in to mercy and spared her no more suffering. He then became a disciple of the Maker and looked for repentance. Tevinter remains different and yet separate from most Andrastian cultures that came from the war that ended with the prophet's death. As for my homeland of Fereldan…Mages have very little rights unless they are overseen by a Circle and guarded by their supposed protectors.

Neria snorted slightly as she delicately thumbed her way through a tome as old as the tower itself she believed. Templars as Protectors; it was what the Nevarran Accord wanted them to be to the Mages, but many were anything but nowadays. So, as long as I remained in the tower, I was free to do as I wished and was only scrutinized in my actions. The templars of the Fereldan Circle were not too strict, but neither were they lenient.

However, many of the current templars here did not truly seem to care for the welfare of their charges. They were cautious, and distant. Not unkind exactly, but not too open either. Every once in a while, you would hear of a bad incident within the tower, but normally it almost never happened.

Neria's eyes misted some as she reflected her own rude entry to the life of the Mage Tower on Lake Calenhad. Or what she remembered of it; much of it now was only vague images that she could hardly recall even with utmost will and effort on her part.

She had come into her magic earlier than many children at barely six years of age. And unlike most children who were found to be talented in magic, but unrefined due to a severe lack of control; she had control over her power. A grip on it that rivaled many young mages and even some of the more experienced mages.

That control had allowed her to hide well and stay in the Alienage undetected for some time with her parents. Ever since her magic had manifested; her earliest memories recalled the worries of her mother and her father's grave expressions every time a templar came, but did not confront him of his daughter. Besides her, Neria knew that her alienage alone had templars visit seven times before she came here. She still spoke to some of the others she knew, but they were all different now.

But her discipline in being able to so finely regulate her mana; it had made her an…exotic oddity among her fellow apprentices. Humans here who were mages seemed jealous of the gift or resented her for it. Many of the templars were extra wary of her presence. It had not helped she was born to elves and was brought in by templars under strictly confidential and highly unusual circumstances.

Ones she had yet to be told of from her mentor. All she knew was that she had not even been brought from her home within the alienage; she had been away at the time, but could not recall the reason why. Her only real friend here was now locked away in solitary confinement for trying to escape the tower. For the sixth time...Anders; he had left her alone and at the mercy of those like them who resented her gifts as much as the templars who did not care for their charges at all.

She was aware that the ancient elves of the great city of Arlathan were said to have lived and breathed magic. That magic was to them no different than to living. Their immortality was just a part of being one of the true elvhan and not due to mana prolonging it. She had studied this very extensively to even reach those conclusions on her own.

Then there was the fact that as being an elf…she was physically built different than a human woman would be. She was not tall; barely five feet and five inches. However, her frame was lithe and slender with delicately shaped hands. Hands she had often been told by her mentor that reminded him of a noble more than a servant or a merchant.

Her ears were pointed as all her race was and her posture was one that many mages deemed unnecessary to maintain if they were going to be locked up for their entire lives. She always stood straight and with her shoulders regally defined.

Her legs were just as slender and delicate looking, but appearances could be deceiving. Her body looked frail, but she was far from helpless. Physical strength may not be her forte, but her mind was her sharpest tool since her magic relied on her ability to remain calm and focus.

It was this insistent ability which had garnered the attentions of the First Enchanter. He had come to her early in her apprenticeship and offered to mentor her. She had been quite shocked at first, but had seen the benefits. She also knew he had watched her progress as she went through her initial training with great watching and interest. She still had no idea why.

"Miss Neria?" A voice interrupted her thoughts

She gazed up and saw another fellow apprentice named Keili. She was standing before her with a hesitant look.

"Yes?" I ask to her stiffly

She the bowed in apology, "I am sorry for interrupting your studies, but I have a note from First Enchanter Irving for you."

She curled her fingers into her pale blonde hair as she tried to calm down. Hair that was so blonde it shimmered white in the moonlight and during the day could be taken as such. Her pale skin giving her the look of someone refined even when attired in mage robes. Her eyes became determined as she closed her book and stood from her chair.

"I see. Please give me the message and then you may go about your other tasks. I will see to whatever lies in the message."

Keili nodded and handed her the note with uncertain hands, but bowed again and then hastily left. I shook my head to her in disdain as she fled from the sight of me. Keili was one of the apprentices who saw the gift of magic as a curse and could not or perhaps would never try or want to understand someone like her.

Magic made her every breath in this world worth living and she could not image herself having been born without the gift the Maker or one of the Dalish Creators had given to her. She then opened the paper and read it carefully.

Eyes of hardened pale blue frost and a stoic expression came to her as she stood suddenly and startled Senior Enchanter Sweeney as she rushed by. She waved apologetically and then briskly walked the hallway and up the stairs to the mages quarters to meet with her mentor.

As she entered the room; she noted Irving was not alone and that Knight-Commander Greagoir seemed agitated about something. However, he soon left in a flourish and barely noticed her if at all as he passed.

"First Enchanter, you needed to see me." I ask

First Enchanter Irving was an old man. He had been in charge of the Fereldan Circle for years and had taken on many young students, but Neria knew he felt most accomplished in her training. She had met many successes and he had never lied to her to get any sort of result. There were times he refused to share what he knew; deeming her not ready for the burden of the information, but Neria had no reason to complain about it yet.

"Indeed child, come in and sit. This will take time." He asked

I did not know what to think of what could be so important. He was acting oddly.

"First Enchanter, are you alright?" I ask hesitant, "You seem on edge and something is bothering you more than normal?"

Irving smiled, "You were always observant; even as a young one. Now you are grown and I feel much like a father to his daughter he watched for years as she learns to find her way. And as a father, I feel obligated to protect my daughter in the only way I can without being suspected."

Irving sighed, "You are to go through your Harrowing tonight. I cannot tell you of the ritual itself, but know that something afoul is about among some of your apprentices. There is danger afoot and both myself and the Knight-Commander believe there to be a blood mage involved. Greagoir suspects several people involved and I can say I agree with two or three of them, but not the last."

Irving then looked to her as I sat there quiet and unsure of how to respond. I was not used to being accused so bluntly of being a maleficar. Even if the templars knew of my talents. It hurt to think I had yet to absolve the stain from myself. Blood Magic was Forbidden magic; at least, it was forbidden in all lands outside Tevinter. Tevinter itself used a façade of disapproval for it while the magisters secretly used it to gain more leverage and power against their foes behind closed doors. Neria knew that while she did not need the power nor desire it; there were those who felt they did.

She was sure some of them had good intent, but as the saying went; 'the road to hell was paved with good intentions' She returned her focus to the words Irving was speaking as they seemed more important to know now.

"You will be pulled from the dorms late in the night. So, no one notices you going missing after curfew. I trust you feel prepared for the ritual? You are very talented and gifted Neria, but I will never force you to submit to the rite if you feel unready."

I sat there blinking in a state of shock. Unfeeling and numb. She had known Irving had favored her over many of the apprentices. Mentors generally did have those who they favored more over others due to their successes. But, not many mentors would consider their apprentices feelings of how prepared they felt to undergo the Ritual of Harrowing.

The Harrowing was said to be an ordeal for any mage apprentice who underwent the rite. Those too weak to endure it were killed out of mercy and those who survived but were deemed a threat or unstable after it; they were forced into a rite known as Tranquility.

Neria shuddered in fear and revulsion. She could not image a life where she felt no emotions and her magic was cut-off from the Fade. To be forced to stop the waking dreams. She had seen how careful First Enchanter Irving had been to nurture her magic and to teach her to not utilize it without restraint. Never fear the gift of magic, but never let it control you either.

"First Enchanter, may I ask you something?" I say in a faint tone

Irving saw the look I had and nodded before I breathed and then focused my thoughts on how to ask this of him; it seemed rude and she did not want to approach this the wrong way.

"I know you have said that you have taken pride in my successes and have seen how talented I am since you have mentored me for many years now. I know that a lot of the apprentices who were here before I was; they were…angered when you chose me as your apprentice; your sole apprentice. I know you have sheltered me from the political influences and manipulations of the fraternities."

She gently folded her hands in her lap as her pale blue gaze seemed troubled and she seemed to find words hard to find. A feat, Irving knew, as Neria had always been very opinionated and never failed to voice her concerns if she felt they had reason to need to be.

"But now you risk yourself to warn me of the dangers that are unfolding because you consider me as your…daughter?" She eyed him, "I feel honored that you feel this way, but why me? Why have you always favored me so?"

Irving looked to her and noted her distressed body language and he knew she was now highly insecure about her placement here within the ranks of the mages even when her bearings did nothing to betray her. He sighed and wondered if she even realized how rare she was among her fellow magical brethren? How extraordinary her magic could be with proper training and time to grow?

Irving then came to her and laid a hand to her shoulder, "I am an old man, Neria. I have trained many young minds in the arcane practices we do here. You were different than those many who I trained. I may have offered to mentor you in the early stages of your time here, but you found me long before you knew who I was and made such an impression." He told her softly

"Not because you were an elf. Not because you were talented beyond the ordinary for a five year-old girl. Not because of your undeniable elven grace and beauty to those around you who resented you for it and for your lack of fear for your gifts."

Irving sat down slowly and wondered if she was ready to know, "Do you remember the circumstances in which had brought you to us?"

Neria's eyes looked to his momentarily before resuming an unseeing gaze to the floor. She wondered what that was about?

She shook her head quietly, "No. I barely have a recollection of the events at all. I remember the smell of smoke and fire. The sensation of great physical pain and then magic cradling me, but that is all. Why? Does this matter somehow?" She asked

Irving hesitated, "Yes. Your circumstances caught the eyes of the whole College of Magi when you were brought here and we finally pieced together all of the ordeal you suffered before the templars found you and rescued you from harm. Your parents were simple servants to a minor nobleman and his family. They were asked to help escort some merchants and aid them however they could. We learned later from the templars who were to investigate what happened to you as you were healed that you were brought along because of having no others to go to."

"The merchant's caravan was attacked by a rather organized group of bandits along the road from Denerim to Redcliffe. The merchant and his family, your parents, several other servants, and even the guards with you all did not survive the skirmish. You were the sole living survivor of the attack." Irving told her gently as his pale green gaze seemed sad, "Your magic spared you death."

Irving looked sadly to her, "Your mother had shielded you and bid you to hide, but you were frozen with fright as the fighting ensued. You watched as the bandits murdered and pillaged. They had overlooked you and would have moved on had you not whimpered in fright."

"When several of them noticed you and then came towards you; you lashed out and raw magical energy had killed the last of them with perfect control and precision despite the state of trauma you were in. In the aftermath of the attack, your control over the raw energy faltered and it…caused you to black out and teleport yourself to safety."

Neria was stunned and did not know what to make of this. Irving had never told her of how the templars had found her and taken her away. She knew it likely had been bad, but she never imagined how bad. Not like this.

Irving then spoke, "But what was more remarkable; was that you landed within the Brecillian Forest. You were unconscious and should have been barely able to rein your magic, but yet; magic seemed to rein you as much as you to it. For you were floating several feet off the ground and in a healing sleep. Predators shied away from you instead of trying to get at you for a meal. Magic was not meant to be used that way, yet you had done something we had never seen."

Irving chuckled, "Oh, we humans have learned that elves are more sensitive to magic given their history. For some, it angers them and for others it does not bother us. When you were brought in; my friend Wynne attended to you and fussed like I had never seen."

"The templars had at first believed you to be a Dalish child that had been abandoned and left to fend for themselves. One too many mages to handle and Wynne was worried over the numerous nutrients you lacked and whatever else."

"It was a few days before we realized you were city-born and hailed from servants to Arl Urien Kendells. You lived in the Alienage on your parent's choice. We realized you were from there only by coincidence as well."

"The templars traced the caravan back to the estate of Arl Urien; who was upset to hear of the massacre and then his steward directed them to the Hahren Valendrien of the Denerim Alienage as the Arl was needed to oversee the training of the guards for inspection. Valendrien confirmed to us you had lived there, but had been unaware you possessed magic. You had hidden well for a young one. Though reassured in your identity; we had no real proof."

"Until another elfling in the alienage you came from began asking for you by name. We had learned yours through the documents filed in the Arl's castle about the trade caravan arrangements. She described you perfectly. Her name was Malaia, and she was a friend to you if you remember."

"The College of Magi learned quickly of what we had found and then had wanted you shipped off to Orlais. To be trained by the First Enchanter of the White Spire itself. I refused to allow it. You had been hurt well beyond thinking and needed time to heal from the ordeal. There was no telling how mentally shocked you were. Wynne spoke to the college on your behalf for me as I stayed here to watch over your remaining injuries. I was not a healer, but I managed."

"It was the ensuing days that made me feel more of a father to you than I have to any others I have mentored in my life." Irving told her sincerely as she listened quietly and with great respect

"Wynne and I watched over you as you healed and did whatever we could to alleviate any discomfort that appeared even while in the sleep state you had forced upon yourself. We still are not sure how you managed it, child." He said kindly, "The templars who brought you here were not from the tower, and those who were had wanted to kill you because of the foreign nature of your magic. I was forced to raise my staff against Greagoir for the first time in many years to barricade them out of your rooms with us watching over you."

Irving smiled, "You should be glad my will was stronger than that of my templar friend's. Greagoir eventually noticed I and Wynne had taken a particular note of care and called off his motion to oversee what we saw. He is still wary of you and what you could do. It is why he falsely and blindly would say you could be a maleficar without hesitance."

"Now, you are healthy, grown, and a powerful mage in your own right. You may not be my blood directly, but in the Circle; that isn't such an issue."

Neria had not known her skill in magic to be so vast as Irving had said. That the College of Magi had wanted her in the White Spire before she ever knew she was bound for a life of arcane study and seclusion was daunting.

She then looked to him and smiled softly, "Thank you for all you have done for me. There is no way for me to repay the kindness shown to me by you and Wynne. If she and when she returns from the south; I shall thank her properly then."

Irving nodded, "Neria, you are very special to me and I warn you of the dangers because it is a risk I want to take to protect you if I can. But, I must advise that you need to watch those you are close to more carefully and observe them without their notice of potential odd behaviors. We suspect several mages in the tower are the one we hunt because they are close to you; not as much as Anders is, but in harming you; they could harm me and with me ineffective, so too does this place become a prison more than a home."

Irving then handed to her a book and gave her a warning look, "I removed this from the library to prevent those ill-equipped to handle the knowledge from pursuing dangerous activities. Take care to read the marked chapters and keep the book from sight. It is on Blood Magic and the warning signs of it. In the chapters marked. There are others that I believe you could benefit from reading as well. Only certain parts, but all the same."

She stared, "First Enchanter, I-

Irving waved a hand, "I know you well enough to know you will never need a demon to prove your superior magical might to those around you. I trust you to not abuse the gift I have granted you. Now it is getting late and you need to read those chapters and reflect on them before eating and resting some. This will be a long night for us both. Wynne would be beside herself in anxiety; were she here."

Neria slid the book in front of the one she had already borrowed and then left. Her mind in turmoil. She knew Irving spoke to her today for a reason. He had wanted to let her know how she had affected his life in a positive way; more so than his warnings of the potential dangers now in the tower. After her harrowing, Irving would be forced to treat her with distance because she was now an actual legalized mage and no longer of needing mentoring with the held hands.

As she fled the office her pale blonde locks whipped about slightly as tears flew from her eyes. She had seen a templar try to say something to her, but she ignored him and walked back to her bed in the apprentice quarters. Petra saw her and came to her, "What happened up there, Neria?"

Keili, Petra and Myra all surrounded her in concern.

Neria hesitated, but for once, felt the need to imply let go and talk this out.

"I came to my magic far younger than many. I was six, and as you know of the rumors; there's no point in hiding it. I was six and able to control the magic I had no matter how emotional I got over something. The First Enchanter has just told me how they found me all those years ago. He waited to ensure I was ready to hear the news without backlash. Now, all I feel is numb, Petra and I have my Harrowing soon. I feel it in my bones and my blood."

Petra looked concerned for her the girl who he considered a friend; though it was one-sided.

"Do you want to talk to us about it? I know that some of us are not as confident in our ability as you, but you are still one of us and we need to take care of our own. Who else will?" Petra asked as the others nodded in compliance

Neria smiled a little, "My parents were servants to Arl Urien of Denerim. A merchant caravan he traded with frequently asked for extra hands in guards and people to unload wares when they got to Redcliffe. The caravan never made it to the borders of Arl Eamon's lands. An organized group of roaming bandits attacked it and everyone but me did not survive."

She looked down, "All I know of my parents is through fuzzy memories and ones I don't trust with much. The bandits discovered me after they killed and pillaged. I was a young female knife-ear to them, so what if they hurt me? I wouldn't matter."

Neria's shoulders shook, "I was already hurt and in shock without them having noticed me. When they had; their intentions were not kind. As they approached me, magic from me lashed out in precise motions and it…it killed them all." She whispered faintly as tears streaked her face in horror

Petra's eyes were sad and seemed to want to comfort her, but knew her friend would not want it.

"If that was not enough; I blacked out and _teleported_ myself to safety in the Brecillian Forest. I was found in a healing coma and floating several inches off the ground. A feat never done before by anyone. Except maybe ancient elves, but who would know?" She snorted derisively

She stared at her hands warily, "I have so much mana in me that I am scared sometimes of even myself. Irving taught me to never be afraid of my magic, but not to let magic control me either. Wisdom beyond compare for me; the girl sought by the College of Magi at five to come to train in the White Spire."

The three girls gasped to this news. They had never really known her magic was so massive nor of how hard it had been for her to know the truth of it without really knowing and then dealing with the rumors and odd looks over the years.

Petra then smiled, "Neria, you are what every mage in this tower wants to be. Most are too lazy or too unambitious to go where they want. Proud of her Magic. Willful and Strong. You stand tall and proud where others back down."

Keili eyed her, "I know you think my fear of my magic is distasteful. I see it in your eyes and body language every time you enter the Chantry here to reflect and see me praying to the Maker for my gift to be cleansed. I am not as strong as you are, but I could never abandon my loyalty to the Circle, even if I wished I wasn't a mage at times."

"If ever something were to happen here and the templars wanted to annul this place we called our home; I would fight and die to protect it. Seeing you here as a true mage…it makes me want to be stronger too."

Myra nodded, "Like Keili, I am not as confident in myself. But when you walk into a room…your shoulders tall and elegant like a noble lady and with a walk that screams gracefulness as your confidence in your magic studies shows to a room; you show us what we could be and we yearn for that day."

Neria smiled with watery eyes.

"Thanks, and I'll try to dial down my disdain for your insecurities. I too have my own, but not like yours with magic in general." She then adopted a mischievous look, "Want to know a secret?"

The three were now gossipy girls and Neria could not remember the last time she felt so included; though she was not unsociable, she tended to prefer her tomes to people most days. Her being apprenticed to the First Enchanter had also isolated her from her peers as well.

"Petra, you knew you wanted to be a healer early on, right? And then was apprenticed to Wynne after your basic education was done about the laws of magic and the rules and such?" She asked

The auburn haired woman nodded, "Yes. I was just apprenticed to her when she was suddenly unavailable and I was reassigned to Senior Healer Rhiannon. I was never told why."

Neria's smiled widened, "It was because of me and my arrival. I was badly hurt from the ordeal I went through and Irving was frantic to save me. He told me he had to defy the Knight-Commander's order and to barricade him and several templars from my rooms. They wanted to kill me because of the foreign magic I used and they were wary of."

Neria's gaze softened, "Wynne apparently saved me and Irving too."

Petra's eyes widened, "Really?"

Keili and Myra stared wide-eyed to this news.

Neria nodded and Petra smiled now as her brow furrowed, "Why do you think you will undergo your Harrowing soon?"

The three looked to her interest and Neria knew to be careful of what she said. She did not need the templars to come and to interrogate her. She would not endanger the First Enchanter to them after all he had done to warn her.

"I don't really know how to…describe it. My magic is on edge. With my body containing so much mana; at times I tap into the sentient energies. Not consciously of course, but I still retain the sensations of it. The feel of the flow of the magic here near me is shifting around a lot and I don't know how to read it really…it just feels off." She said slowly

The three others wondered what it would be like to feel raw magic as Neria did. Petra and Keili did not envy her for the gift; it was one they knew was beyond them to control. But many others here; they had envied and resented Neria's skill for too long. That she always stood strong, never backed down from when they looked down on her and forced them to acknowledge her superior magic when they did not wish to without losing herself was a testament to her strength.

Petra then smiled, "Well, even if you are to go through it; I know you of all the apprentices will succeed. You have the mentor of the Circle that most would give their soul for and your own strength; you will be fine."

Neria smiled, "Thanks Petra. I need to read something before dinner, but…" She faltered; she had never been good at asking for help

Petra merely waited and watched as she tried to convey her intentions with difficulty.

"Before lights out, would you help me to learn how to maintain my spell shield better? I heard you had figured a new rune pattern to make them more stable?" Neria asked hesitantly

Petra raised a brow and then smirked to her, "Rumor sure does fly here. I barely managed yesterday to recreate my discovery, but sure; I'll show you it and see if you can manage the spell. You might even be able to notice how it could be improved more. You have more knowledge of runes than anyone else I know."

Neria then smiled as she stood and hugged Petra. The human woman was shocked at first to the open display of affection and gratitude from the normally closed-off elven woman, but nonetheless…she returned the gesture.

Petra smiled as she let go, "We'll leave you to read now, but know you have us to rely on if you need it. This will always be your home, Neria. There is no need for you to be so isolated to everyone."

Neria nodded as she watched them go and felt the sensation of dread claw at her. She knew that the tower was somehow not going to be home to her before long. Though she could not explain why. She pulled out her hidden book and began to read the intended pages.

Little did she know that in mere hours from now; her whole world was going to be turned upside down and inside out from what it had been.


End file.
